Sarah Woodberry is a writer, editor, and creative writing instructor who loves to reread Jane Austen. She’s a member of JASNA’s New York Metropolitan Region and she teaches at Norwalk Community College in Connecticut. She says while she subscribes to the theory that “whichever Austen novel one is reading is the favorite,” she has a soft spot for Emma: “Every time I read the final line, I want to flip back to page one and start Emma again.” She first read the novel as a teenager and she’s reread it many times since then because she finds it “the sunniest and happiest” of Austen’s novels. It’s the book she turns to—and recommends to friends—“in tough or stressful times.”

I don’t have an “I Heart Darcy” t-shirt. To be sure, when reading Pride and Prejudice, one cannot help but be enamored of Mr. Darcy. But really, when it comes to Jane Austen’s heroes, my heart belongs to Mr. George Knightley. He has all the advantages of Darcy—land, position, looks—but “with a real liberality of mind” (Volume 1, Chapter 18).

Despite his status as the most prominent landowner around, Mr. Knightley is not a snob. He has “a delicacy towards the feelings of other people” (Volume 1, Chapter 18). He shows attention to those less fortunate, like the Bateses and the orphaned Jane Fairfax. He’s happy to visit the “only moderately genteel” Coles (Volume 2, Chapter 7). When Harriet Smith is snubbed so publicly by Mr. Elton at the ball, Mr. Knightley makes a point of leading her onto the floor. Emma calls him “benevolent” (Volume 2, Chapter 8), and Harriet notices his “noble benevolence” (Volume 3, Chapter 11).

That’s not to imply that he has no backbone. As he says to Emma, a man can always do “his duty; not by maneuvering and finessing, but by vigor and resolution” (Volume 1, Chapter 18). Mr. Knightley politely checks the rather pushy Mrs. Elton, saying, “there is only one married woman whom I can ever allow to invite what guests she pleases to Donwell” (Volume 3, Chapter 6). While everyone at the Christmas party is debating the snowfall, Mr. Knightley walks down the road to examine its depth before sounding the all clear. When Hartfield does get snowbound, their only visitor is Mr. Knightley, “whom no weather could keep entirely from them” (Volume 1, Chapter 16).

While Austen doesn’t really describe Mr. Knightley’s appearance, his attractiveness is implied. Emma tells Harriet “you might not see one in a hundred, with gentleman so plainly written as in Mr. Knightley” (Volume 1, Chapter 4). After meeting him, Mrs. Elton positively gushes about “Knightley,” and, after one dance, Harriet becomes smitten. At that ball, Emma begins to notice him herself. “His tall, firm, upright figure, among the bulky forms and stooping shoulders … was such as Emma felt must draw every body’s eyes … there was not one among the whole row of young men who could be compared with him” (Volume 3, Chapter 2).

Still, what is most endearing about Mr. Knightley is his relationship with Emma. As the novel opens, we learn that “[they] always say what [they] like to one another” and have a teasing rapport. “You made a lucky guess,” he says when she boasts of matchmaking. “Have you never known the pleasure and triumph of a lucky guess?” she retorts (Volume 1, Chapter 1). Emma jokes that his walking everywhere, instead of taking a carriage, “is a sort of bravado, an air of unaffected concern.” He replies, “‘Nonsensical girl!’ … but not at all in anger” (Volume 2, Chapter 8).

Their unique situation, in which Emma’s father expects Mr. Knightley daily, allows them to spend an unusual amount of time together. They are often alone—something that was prohibited of a suitor in those days. With the exception of Fanny Price, who lives in the same house as her cousin Edmund, Austen’s other heroines see their men at balls or chaperoned social calls, with limited one-on-one time. Emma and Mr. Knightley thus know each other better than most couples would. When Emma tells him that Harriet declined Robert Martin’s offer of marriage, Mr. Knightley instantly knows that Emma wrote the letter herself. When Mrs. Weston suspects that Mr. Knightley sent Jane the piano, Emma counters, “Mr. Knightley does nothing mysteriously … if he intended to give her one, he would have told her so” (Volume 2, Chapter 8). A little later, he says nearly the exact same words himself.

When he tells Emma that he loves her, he also feels that she “knows” him and “understands” him (Volume 3, Chapter 13). That’s what is so truly wonderful about their relationship—their connection. “Seldom, very seldom, does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised, or a little mistaken; but where, as in this case, though the conduct is mistaken, the feelings are not, it may not be very material.—Mr. Knightley could not impute to Emma a more relenting heart than she possessed, or a heart more disposed to accept of his” (Volume 3, Chapter 13). Likewise, Mr. Knightley knows Emma. He’s seen her make big mistakes, such as ridiculing Miss Bates. But, in the end, he finds her “faultless in spite of all her faults” (Volume 3, Chapter 13).

Now I must address the age issue, as so many readers balk at that. (There was a good deal of discussion about this topic in the comments on Kirk Companion’s guest post “Why do readers object to the romance between Emma and Mr. Knightley?”) Yes, Emma is 21 and Mr. Knightley is 37; however, in Regency society this was par for the course. Emma argues that Robert Martin, at 24, is too young to marry. The main objection to the potential romance between Mr. Knightley and Jane Fairfax, also 21, is her lack of money and social status. Mrs. Weston comments, “Excepting inequality of fortune, and perhaps a little disparity of age, I can see nothing unsuitable” (Volume 2, Chapter 8). In Sense and Sensibility, Marianne Dashwood is only 16 when she marries the 35-year-old Colonel Brandon. In Pride and Prejudice, Lydia Bennet is “out” at age 15, meaning that she is on the marriage market. When she runs off with Wickham their elopement is decried because it is scandalous—not because he is about 28. In fact, Mrs. Bennet boasts that Lydia has married so early. Elizabeth Bennet will not admit to Lady Catherine de Bourgh that she is already 20. Both Fanny Price of Mansfield Park and Catherine Morland of Northanger Abbey are 17. It must be noted that at 21 Emma is older than every one of Austen’s leading ladies, except Anne Elliot (whose older age is a plot point). Throughout Emma, Austen describes Mr. Knightley in youthful and vibrant terms.

As to the much debated moment when Mr. Knightley tells Emma he’s loved her since she was 13 … he is joking! Out of context, and by contemporary standards, this sounds rather creepy, but it’s actually another example of their playful banter. They are talking of how indulged Mrs. Weston’s baby girl will be, and Mr. Knightley jests that he’s “losing all [his] bitterness against spoilt children” now that he has found happiness with Emma. Indeed, he feels he has been too nitpicky with her: “by dint of fancying so many errors, [I’ve] been in love with you ever since you were thirteen at least.” He’s being facetious. He means that he somehow fell in love with her despite pointing out all her cheeky behavior. In reply, Emma says it would be the “greatest humanity” for Knightley to guide baby Anna—except, she quips, for falling in love with her at 13 (Volume 3, Chapter 17). Would Emma joke in this way or urge him to pay attention to little Anna if she thought Mr. Knightley serious? After all, she banished Harriet for having a crush on him.

Austen makes it clear that Mr. Knightley did not think of Emma romantically until she showed an interest in Frank Churchill. “He had been in love with Emma, and jealous of Frank Churchill, from about the same period, one sentiment having probably enlightened him as to the other” (Volume 3, Chapter 13).

The episode serves as a glimpse into their continued playfulness. Austen’s other novels basically end after the proposal, but in Emma we see the betrothed as couple. They tag-team in announcing their engagement to her reluctant father: Emma breaks the news and Mr. Knightley then joins them. When he offers to move into Hartfield, he asks Emma to think on it—and they make this decision together. This move is a huge concession from Mr. Knightley. “How few of those men in a rank of life to address Emma would have renounced their own home for Hartfield” (Volume 3, Chapter 17). Finally, when discussing Frank Churchill’s shameful treatment of Jane Fairfax, Mr. Knightley observes: “my Emma, does not every thing serve to prove more and more the beauty of truth and sincerity in all our dealings with each other?” (Volume 3, Chapter 15)

Mr. Knightley “is not a gallant man,” says Emma (Volume 2, Chapter 8). He does not carry her through a rainstorm, or rescue her sister from ruin, or return victorious from sea. Still, Austen, who loved wordplay, named him “Knight-ley.” His is a sort of quiet heroism. Just as Emma is able to see this in him, by proxy so do I. Perhaps because she knows him so intimately, I also feel a special connection. To me, Mr. Knightley has all the recommendations of a true Austen hero … and just a little bit more.

Quotations are from the Penguin Classics Edition of Emma, edited by Fiona Stafford (2003).

Twenty-third in a series of blog posts celebrating 200 years of Jane Austen’s Emma. To read more about all the posts in the series, visit Emma in the Snow. Coming soon: guest posts by Deborah Yaffe, Kim Wilson, and Paul Savidge.

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Yes, this analysis holds true and as we re-read Emma we discover so much about their relationship by indirection and half-heard asides. John Wiltshire, in The Hidden Jane Austen, is wonderfully astute in his analysis of overheard conversation in Emma. May I recommend to all Austen readers this invaluable book.

Here, here! A wonderful defense of the Emma/Knightley pairing. I am so embarrassed, though – how many times have I read this book and never noticed the Knightley name? Duh…

My only real thought about Emma/George is that I don’t know what makes him suddenly fall in love with her when she is 21. She’s been in her majority for a while now. As others have noted in other threads – women married young; 15 being considered marriageable. So, once Emma is past the creepy-young stage of 13 – maybe well past at 18 or 19 or 20 – why didn’t he fall in love with her then?

Maybe I’m not noticing something. The novel doesn’t seem to supply any particular circumstance or event for the change in quality of feelings. Possibly, they’ve been growing for a while and he finally recognizes them for what they are, which seems to be suggested by his jealousy of Frank Churchill.

I’ve also always been skeptical of Emma not knowing her feelings for Mr. Knightley until she thinks she may lose him to Harriet. In my experience, people are not that confused about who they’re attracted to. However, it was a different time and place; Emma had very different social experiences and expectations than we do. It may just have been that Harriet’s being enamored of Mr. Knightley is Emma’s first occasion to separate out her friendship feelings from romantic interest.

The reason they don’t notice that they’re in love with each other is because they each take the other for granted. S/he has always been there, nothing’s going to change, there’s no need to interrogate their feelings. Mr. Knightley realizes he’s in love when he begins to think Emma may prefer Frank; Emma realizes she’s in love when she begins to think Mr. Knightley may prefer Harriet. “Till now that she was threatened with its loss, Emma had never known how much of her happiness depended on being first with Mr. Knightley, first in interest and affection. Satisfied that it was so, and feeling it her due, she had enjoyed it without reflection; and only in the dread of being supplanted, found how inexpressibly important it had been.” (Wow, that’s a beautiful passage. That JA — she’s rather good, isn’t she?) I think that’s very believable, actually, and so do the makers of all those rom-coms in which the heroine takes the whole movie to realize that the man for her is the loyal best friend who’s been hanging around the action the whole time.

I get the idea. It’s not unreasonable. It just does not fit my experience of life. Eros is a strong appetite, after all. Right behind food and water. And, the 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit experience of a person right beside you that you like and are attracted to is hard to overlook, speaking just for myself. 🙂

Very interesting thread – can’t resist joining in 🙂 I see JA’s point: Emma believes herself “in the secret of everybody’s feelings” but doesn’t even know her own heart – beyond that I’d be hard put to account for her lack of self-awareness.

Perhaps it’s not just love that is at stake here: social standing is a major issue, and then there’s Emma’s strong competitive streak – not to mention her Oedipal relationship with Mr Woodhouse. “I never have been in love,” she tells Harriet, “it is not my way, or my nature; and I do not think I ever shall. And, without love, I am sure I should be a fool to change such a situation as mine …few married women are half as much mistress of their husband’s house as I am of Hartfield; and never, never could I expect to be … so always first and always right in any man’s eyes as I am in my father’s.”

Later on she feels attracted to Frank Churchill, but decides not to encourage him. Of course, they’d have to live at Enscombe or nearby, where his aunt would have precedence …

When the Eltons come to Highbury, Mr Woodhouse regrets having been too much of an invalid to wait on them, which surprises Emma, as he’s “no friend to matrimony.” Her father thinks he should have paid his respects anyway: “A bride especially is never to be neglected … A bride, you know, my dear, is always the first in company.” Emma’s not convinced: “Well, papa, if this is not encouragement to marry, I do not know what is.” At the Crown ball “Emma must submit to stand second to Mrs. Elton, though she had always considered the ball as peculiarly for her. It was almost enough to make her think of marrying” – quite a revealing joke, I’d say.

Finally, seeing her preeminence threatened by Harriet, she realises to what extent her happiness “depends on being first with Mr Knightley” – first being the operative word here. In fact she wouldn’t mind “his remaining single all his life. Could she be secure of … his never marrying at all, she believed she should be perfectly satisfied.–Let him but continue the same Mr. Knightley to her and her father, the same Mr. Knightley to all the world; let Donwell and Hartfield lose none of their precious intercourse of friendship and confidence, and her peace would be fully secured.–Marriage, in fact, would not do for her. It would be incompatible with what she owed to her father, and with what she felt for him. Nothing should separate her from her father. She would not marry, even if she were asked by Mr. Knightley.” I don’t quite get it: she’s attached to him but couldn’t possibly leave Mr Woodhouse – therefore he must stay celibate so that she should never be “supplanted,” either socially or as his friend. How selfish is that?

Monicadescalzi, Goodness, thank you for your very thorough reply! You have some very interesting insights and I do agree that social standing is a big issue and undercurrent. I always love how JA plays with and comes at the idea of marriage with so many viewpoints in each of her works and you have highlighted that very well. I don’t see Emma as selfish in the end … but that is my opinion … and you make some good points. I see her as realizing that she cannot abandon her father. All through the novel, Emma is a bit of a prisoner to her father’s needs. Just to go to the Cole’s party she needs permission and stand-ins. She cannot go out as she pleases, even just to dine w/o him at the Westons. So I feel that Emma is an incredibly compassionate and goodnatured person to 1.) not resent this 2.) not jump at the first chance she can to abandon her father.. There was a fascinating piece on Emma as caretaker in the NYTimes in Dec:http://www.nytimes.com/2015/12/20/opinion/jane-austens-guide-to-alzheimers.html?_r=0

I take her hopes that Mr. Knightley never marrying is in part bc she is only now realizing how important his presence is to her. She realizes that she is stuck with her father and she is wishing/hoping/fantasizing that he would just never marry himself. If he did marry, his obligations would be to his new wife (like Mrs Weston has been pulled into another direction). We learn early on in the book how lonely Emma is. “She dearly loved her father, but he was no companion for her.” A few lines later she is thinking that “many a long October and November evening must be struggled through at Hartfield, before Christmas brought the next visit from Isabella.” (Volume 1, Chapter 1)

So at the end of the novel her panic/anxiety over losing both Harriet and Mr Knightley seems very real to me. Of course, it would be selfish for her to expect Mr. Knightley to not marry anyone else if she will not marry him. But I see her as thinking all of this through … and realizing that she could lose Mr. Knightley, who is in some ways her lifeline to the outside world and her only reliable social companion now that Mrs. Weston has had a baby (and must be even less available). I find Emma’s anxiety/concern is validated when we learn “the impossibility of her quitting her father, Mr. Knightley felt as strongly as herself.” He’s all too aware that Emma is basically caring for an invalid. So imho, Emma’s refusal to break free and abandon her father is rather selfless than selfish.

However, you make a very strong point that even in the end JA has Emma showing a bit of myopic princess quality. She can’t change completely. Haha! Anyway, my viewpoint is really just that. I think that you make very good points, and I think many readers would agree with them. That is one of the things I most like about EMMA as a novel … there are so many facets and ways one can read it.

Thank you so much, Sarah, for your carefully pondered reply. I tend to agree with you on the whole – and I never really meant to say that Emma was selfish – goodness no! I was referring only to that passing idea. She was thinking things through, as you say. The following day she’d be willing to lend Mr Knightley an ear, even though she believed he was going to tell her about Harriet: “Emma could not bear to give him pain. He was wishing to confide in her–perhaps to consult her;–cost her what it would, she would listen. She might assist his resolution, or reconcile him to it; she might give just praise to Harriet, or, by representing to him his own independence, relieve him from that state of indecision, which must be more intolerable than any alternative to such a mind as his.”

But, of course, there are nuances and points of view, and (the other) Sarah’s blog has been providing a forum for us to weigh them and deepen our understanding of the novel. So many different aspects have been discussed by authors and commentators, things we might not have noticed otherwise – it’s really been a wonderful experience.

I’m particularly grateful for the link to the NYT piece. The fact that we can change our focus as we re-read JA’s books and still find so much that’s personally relevant is a testament to her true greatness.

Monica,
I love that scene you highlighted. Always gets me. I confess that, like Mrs. Weston, I tend to see Emma in a favorable light even when she needs a bit of scrutiny. (Biased bc I like the novel, I guess.)

I’ve really enjoyed reading your comments! You are so right that I am learning more and more about JA thanks to Sarah Emsley and her wonderful guest posts … and all the dialogue that’s inspired.

I think maybe he HAS been in love with her some time before he realized it. By the time Frank Churchill came along, and he got jealous, he realized it for the first time. But the “in love” and the love that he felt for this little girl who was, after all, family to him (his brother’s sister-in-law, which was most often just called “sister” in those days). I think he knew his fondness for her, and she just naturally grew up and blossomed around him, the changes happening so slowly, there was never one point when he saw her differently until he was forced to by circumstance. This is something that Jane Austen was well aware of. Lizzy says of her love of Darcy “It has been coming on so gradually, that I hardly know when it began”, and he says of her: “I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.”

I feel I must explain something better than I did in the discussion around Kirk Companion’s post “Why do readers object to the romance between Emma and Mr. Knightley?”). I said that I worried about their marriage a bit because of their age difference, feeling that Knightley would be apt to think of her always as a little girl who needs correcting. This was interpreted as his wanting to dominate her and her allowing it, which I didn’t mean. (I may even have expressed myself badly and said he would try to dominate her).

I have two real-life examples of this – first is my parent’s marriage – my father was 11 years older than my mother, and they met when my mother was 21 – so he always felt that it was his job to protect and care for her (a common thought in the 1940’s) and hers was to obey. She never was cowed by him, and she always did as she pleased, much to his amused chagrin. This was just something I noticed as what he FELT he ought to be to her, even though he could SEE that she was not his to command! It was a point of discussion and struggle from time to time (as there is always something to discuss or struggle about in a marriage).

Obviously, it didn’t put me off – my husband is 15 years my senior (though we married when I was 40 and he was 55, so neither of us thought i was a child). But I see the same tendency in my husband to feel that he ought to be “the responsible one” who from time to time, must point out where I am mistaken. Like my mother, I don’t listen any more than I ought. I suspect Emma would be the same. She may murmur her agreement while doing just as she pleases, but I am certain she will do as she pleases, if she feels she is right!

So I wasn’t saying I was worried that Emma would be dominated, but rather that there would be a feeling that Knightley would have some trouble with, of always being the elder, the teacher.

Julie,
Thank you for such a thoughtful comment! That is a great comparison to Lizzy and Darcy. Also, perhaps Capt Wentworth who thinks he can ignore Anne Elliot, but then being around her makes him realize he cannot.

I find your personal insights intriguing! Of course, you are right that the dynamic with Mr. Knightley and Emma is going to be different than if they were both 21. He is more likely to be the responsible one … tho maybe she needs that after being responsible for her father for so long? Or maybe it would be a challenge?

It’s def different than the Jane/Frank dymanic in which Jane is certainly the responsible one! That could be a reason to marry an older man. Ha! 😉 I enjoyed hearing your positive experiences, as there seem to be many such happy marriage.

I think you expressed yourself wonderfully in this and your comments on Kirk Companion’s blog. I think the jump to domination may have been in the reader’s point of view. (Guilty!) There were some anti-Mr. Knightley thoughts (JA readers are so complex) and so your point was perhaps misconstrued by some of us.

Thank you for nice comment. I confess, I totally understand the Emma not realizing she loved Mr. Knightley. Have you never not thought a guy was interesting until one of your friends liked him? I have had that a couple of times–asked out but not smitten–and then if a friend else starts dating the guy … you see he is a catch after all.

I also, like Emma, set up one of my suitors with a friend (tho I really knew he was interested unlike Emma). It all worked out and they got married! So I didn’t submarine her like Harriet. 😉

You have certainly opened my eyes to Knight-ley! I have always liked Mr. Knightley, but I think your post has encouraged me to think of him in more depth. In so doing, I think I find him much more attractive on the inside and on the outside. He is steadfast, loyal and kind to all and has real depth of character. Great post!
Bravo!

As a new JA fan, I read her most famous novel first (Pride and Prejudice) and immediately fell in love with Mr. Darcy, for how can we forget his declaration of love towards Elizabeth, it melts every girls heart. After that I read Sense and Sensibility were the male characters are a little bit more shy in terms of expressing affection through words, it was more actions than anything (Colonel Brandon). Now, as I began to read Emma I thought Mr. Knightley to be the type of man whose heart was guarded, in short words, a non romantic type of fellow, but alas, his declaration of love towards Emma was breathtaking. I dare say Mr. Knightley actually reminded me of both Mr. Darcy and Colonel Brandon, perhaps he is a mixture of both characters. He is romantic but also wise and as described by Emma, benevolent.

Re-reading this post almost a year later and I just want to comment on the beautiful style as well as the wonderful content — this is so well written. Thanks again for a great commentary. And I’d like to add that it’s wonderful we can all love the same man so much and not have to be jealous of each other….

Welcome!

I write about Jane Austen, Jane Austen for kids, and Edith Wharton. Sometimes I post about other writers I admire, such as L.M. Montgomery, and about places I love (especially Nova Scotia and Alberta). I taught writing at Harvard University before I decided to come home to Nova Scotia to write full time.

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"I must keep to my own style & go on in my own Way; And though I may never succeed again in that, I am convinced that I should totally fail in any other." Jane Austen to James Stanier Clarke, 1 April 1816

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